Last Saturday, it was slow in the store and I wanted to finish shingling Cabin #3 because I still had one more roof to go and winter is approaching. I wrote on a full sheet of paper this message:
"Blow horn twice for service. Give me a couple of minutes and I'll be right here."
The reason for blowing the horn twice is because I was using an air-nailer that has a bark. I'm bound to hear one of two honks. The reason I said to wait a few minutes was because I had to climb down a a ladder and cross through about 100 yards of trails and brush. Simple enough to understand, or so I thought.
Well, as the beautiful late-October day grew shorter, I heard my four-legged doorbell Delilah go off, loud and clear when a truck drove into the yard. So, I hit the ladder and down to Terra firma I climbed. I cut past Cabin 7, took a couple of turns through the brush and stepped onto an obscure trail that leads me right to the store. It took me all of 45 seconds to get there and as I approached, I saw a late 20's couple looking at a map on the wall and peering into the glass on the door with cupped hands on brows. They looked like they were trying to find something on the deck, as well.
I could see what looked like the essence of confusion. I greeted them and inquired if they missed the note that I taped OVER the door knob, but also quickly added that it didn't matter because Delilah was making far more noise than any horn.
The guy replied in a slightly exasperated tone that they would have "blown the horn" but could not seem to find it anywhere around the door. He looked around the area as he said this to me. He also pointed to the obviously dead door bell button next to the door frame and said that nothing "really sounded any horn" no matter what they tried. They were perplexed.
I said slowly, "The horn on your truck, is what the note meant. There is no horn hanging by the door here for you to actually blow."
"Oooooooooh", they both said in a slightly confused harmony after seeing the light. "The horn on the truck.", the guy said. She nodded her head slightly in understanding.
Internally, a part of me died....of laughter....and then sadness.
For the next time I have to do this, I'm considering suggesting that there is a "Horn Blowing App" that people should download to their smartphones or maybe I'll hang a saxophone or a trombone on a peg next to the door.
"Play a tune and give me a few minutes to get there." Still SMH.
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Comment if you'd like. I'd also like to hear your stories of staying at Northwind Lodge.